


Wind Up Toy

by RicaRica6661



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Bronwyn is a stuffed mule but I feel bad about it, Claire’s just a regular one, Enoch is a rag doll, Honestly I have no idea what the rest of them should be so recommendations welcomed lmao, Horace is a porcelain wind up doll, I swear to you this one will not be horny, Jacob is their kid, M/M, a toy story AU but not really, one of those one that are made out of a potato sack or something, so that might change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:22:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23884444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RicaRica6661/pseuds/RicaRica6661
Summary: As an antique doll, Horace has lots to worry about, his steadily deteriorating body, losing his life to a rowdy third grader, and especially living out the rest of his life without a steady source of love, but when his arm is injured during a move, he finds what might be the answer to at least some of his concerns.
Relationships: Enoch O'Connor/Horace Somnusson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Wind Up Toy

Horace sat at the bottom of the chest and tried to ignore the dull pain in his arm. He knew once they reached the new house someone would find him and dig him out, but for right now he had to lie there and try to avoid being shattered by his chestmates clunking about every time they hit a pothole.

Who puts a porcelain doll at the bottom of a toy chest anyways. he thought bitterly

He stifled a squeak when the truck hit another bump, whimpering when someone bumped his key. He twitched uncontrollably, chipping off more of his already cracked paint. He reached up with his good hand to check the damage, before hunkering down for a the rest of the drive.  
-  
Horace didn’t even notice he fell asleep until the truck was screeching to a halt, and staying that way.

He relaxed. Now, hopefully, they’d just move the chest into Jacob’s room, and not look to closely at the contents. He doubted the boy and his parents would be very keen on keeping a cracked, “creepy” doll in the young boy’s room. 

Bronwyn insisted Horace still looked lovely, and that if Jacob did encounter him, he’d be happy to play with him, and as much as he wanted to believe her (heaven knows how much he’s craving a tea party, or at least a game of dress up) he was damaged. He didn’t look “lovely” he looked... bad. His walk cycle was weird and jerky, paint was cracking, and he was dirty, and now with his broken arm, he was terrified about what is future held.

He could hear the faint noises of the parents talking to the driver of the truck, and the excited chattering of the little boy moving closer to the chest. Then a older voice chuckle, the box jostled a bit, then everything was slipping around, Horace gasped when his pieces scattered everywhere. He frantically collected as many as he could, but he was ultimately left with a small, sad pile of his broken bits. His bottom lip trembled, and could feel his motor stuttering in his chest. 

He began to weep, curling around what remained of his broken arm. He cried until the chest was in Jacob’s playroom and the young boy was sent to bed. Everyone seemed to come alive after that. 

“Horace? oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at the toy who spoke, Bronwyn. A toy mule, stuffed with wood wool.

Horace sniffled and waved what was left of his arm around. 

“I see... Here, I’ll collect the rest of the pieces, then all we have to do is glue you back up, you’re going to be alright love.”

“If you say so”

While he laid on the floor, waiting for Bron to get his missing pieces, he wondered who’d be glueing them back. He really hoped it would be Enoch. Horace thought he was the most handsome rag doll, probably, in the whole world. Soft and round, and his eyes were the most gorgeous speckled buttons. One wooden and one a deep, green plastic, 

Horace smiled at the thought. 

“Alright, I think I got them all.” She said, nudging the shards into a pile next to him.

“Thank you” 

“Of course. That’s ride really did a number on you” she fretted, examining his paint. “When Enoch turns back up we’ll have him take a look at you, is that okay?”

“Oh that’s more than okay” he replied, a light blush on his cheeks

Bronwyn rolled her eyes affectionately. She trotted off to help situate a couple of the smaller toys, leaving Horace alone again.

As the ticking of his motor slowed, and any moment he made grew slow and jerky, he offhandedly wondered if Enoch could possibly want his sweetheart. He was sure the rag doll could fix him up, make him pretty again, even if he didn’t have the option of human love, maybe the love of another toy could work just as well.


End file.
